


Kit

by ashangel101010



Series: Three Foxes [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Armitage Hux is a Fox, Baby Armitage Hux, Eventual Happy Ending, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Heartbreak, Life Day (Star Wars), M/M, Triclops is Rama, Two Fathers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: Rama's son is a fox.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Sate Pestage, Brendol Hux/Triclops, Sate Pestage & Triclops
Series: Three Foxes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764271
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Kit

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing in the Star Wars universe or anything in any universe; I just like writing stories in that universe.

Kit

*

Main Theme- All Cats Are Grey by The Cure

*

Sate Pestage wakes from a silent nightmare. His headscarves are a messy nest under his sweaty head. His wrinkled robes clung uncomfortable to his body. He sighs and rubs at his temples, trying to will away a nightmare-induced headache. He really shouldn’t have eaten spicy pork dumplings before bed, but they were wonderfully greasy and left behind a delightful heat. He ate all ten pieces and then…

_Wait, when did I get into bed? I don’t remember anything after I went to the ‘fresher._

He sits up and examines his surroundings. This room isn’t his bedroom on Coruscant or his childhood bedroom back on Ciutric IV. This room is entirely gray, even the sheets are gray. His dark, beady eyes fall on the ash-colored wardrobe in front of him. It’s been carved to resemble a vixus, a tentacle monstrosity with maw full of razor-sharp teeth, but the doors have taken the place of the maw, almost like the mouth was sewn shut. Considering the bland color scheme and the monster before him, he’s certain that he’s somewhere on Umbara.

**_CREEEEEAK!_ **

He swivels his head at the door’s ominous-sounding opening and sees a trolley laden with pastries and a porcelain tea set. And then, he sees the person and his heart stops. 

It’s Rama. No longer is he the fragile wisp of a child from ten years ago. He’s a young man dressed in a lace dress with voluminous skirts. Sate wonders if Rama just came back from a funeral for a princess or that the young man worked for an unsavory café.

“Good morning, Sate.” The child’s reediness has been replaced with a delicate baritone.

“R-Rama.” He chokes out, while the young man smiles at his tongue-tied manner. His green eyes are warm as the teacup he presses into his hands. The young man sits at the end of his bed and folds his hands daintily onto his lap. 

“ _I’ve missed you._ ” Rama whispers with tears filling his eyes. He wipes them away with the back of his lace gloves. 

“What happened to you?”

“I got pregnant.”

“O-Oh,” _He’s nineteen; he’s far too young to be a father!_ “Who’s the mother?”

“I _literally_ was pregnant. Had to have a C-section since I lacked the necessary parts for childbirth, and my hips are quite narrow.” He lets out a little laugh at his own self-deprecation. 

“…………Is the other father involved?”

“Of course, Bren is very much like you. However, I’m not a heartless monster like my father.” His smile shows a hint of his slightly crooked teeth, reminding him eerily of Chancellor Palpatine when he was in a bloodthirsty mood.

“You shouldn’t be saying things like that.” Sate frowns, but Rama holds his Palpatine smile.

“I’m a monster too. I didn’t know I was until I held Armitage for the first time. His fur was so red, his nose kept wrinkling, and his mouth made these cute whimpers. It was then I knew that I would destroy the universe if he ever died, which is why I need your assistance.”

“Rama, I’m not a medic.” _Nor a family therapist._

“I don’t need a medic. I need you, Sate. Armitage needs _you_.”

“What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s a fox.”

“…………Of course.” Sate sighs deeply.

“I believe it may have been an unforeseen side-effect from my constant spellcasting all those years ago.” Rama picks up a teacup and takes a sip. “He kept shifting back and forth from human to fox while he was in the womb. I believe it’s not impossible for him to become human again; he just needs you.”

“I’m guessing there’s no counter-spell for this.”

“My father tried to craft one, I tried to craft one, and we both failed. My father was right when he said that there’s something about you which breaks the spell. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. It’s your love, Sate, your love has power.”

_Not powerful enough to entrance Palpatine, or fix the rift between him and his son. But, maybe, I can save his grandson._

“Alright, I’ll help. Let’s go meet him.”

“We can do that after breakfast. I also took the time to put your clothes away in the wardrobe, so you can change if you wish.”

“You’re going to eat too?”

“I have eat three or four times a day for Armitage. I got…well, Bren would say healthier, but I feel so bloated!”

_I guess Rama inherited his father’s aversion to eating more than once a day. Maybe I can change that too._

*

The Ghost Nebula Manor, as Rama called it, was here long before Sly Moore acquired it. A doctor to the top ten caste levels commissioned its construction. He sought privacy from the prying, backstabbing society, yet, he also used his house to service those same conniving caste members discreetly. Shockingly, he died of old age instead of poisoning like his predecessor. It laid uninhabited for about a century before Moore purchased it for her own ends.

“She had the inside repainted since she hated the color.”

“It’s gray.”

“To you, it will always be, but Umbarans can see in ultraviolet. It was a blinding white that gave her nightmares.”

“What do you see?”

“Blue.”

The room was the storage area for the doctor’s furniture collection. Moore, in one of her mad episodes, converted it into a family room. A Life Day fir with its purple skirt acts as the colorful centerpiece in a rather depressing room. It’s decorated with metal ornaments shaped like dragons, spiders, and foxes; a red-robed Diathim tops the tree. The Diathim bows their head downward, right at the kit.

The pot-bellied kit rolls around without an ounce of Palpatine dignity. His eyes are screwed shut, and his pink tongue hangs out the side of his mouth like a goofy puppy.

Sate puts a hand to his mouth to stop himself from squealing, but utterly fails to.

“Is the kettle on?” A burly man comes out from behind the fir. Red ribbon ornaments hang off three of his thick fingers. His hair is a darker shade than Armitage’s, and his skin must be a natural tan since sunlight has no hope to pierce the Shadow World. His graying beard wraps perfectly around his blocky jaw. His eyes are a sky blue.

“Oh, it was from him.” The man says unabashedly. “I’m Brendol Hux and I’ve heard a lot about you, Emissary Pestage.”

Brendol holds out his free hand, and Sate shakes it.

_He sounds so formal like a farm boy after his first month at the Academy, but I can feel deep tissue scars in his hand. Either he got into a serious accident when he was younger, or he originally came from far rougher origins._

“Just _Sate_ will do. Did you make these ornaments yourself?” _Always start out with polite questions, usually pertaining to the target in question._ His father’s advice from nearly eighty years ago still rings true.

“Yeah, I can’t make swords or daggers here. I don’t have the material or the forge for them anymore.”

_Was he a blacksmith? Maybe he worked in the entertainment business for fantasy holos? Or he could’ve been a weapon specialist for very attention-seeking assassins. It would explain the scars._

“Bren is an artisan.” Rama smiles with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He then kneels down and presses one finger on his wriggling fox-son’s stomach. He rubs crescents and stars, causing Armitage to let out high-pitch yips.

“He’s gotten louder.” Brendol comments.

“That’s because I told him Sate’s here.” Rama looks back up at him; his green eyes grow brighter, and his thin mouth curls up into another smile.

“Why doesn’t he open his eyes?” Sate blurts.

“Foxes are born blind and deaf; it takes a week or two before they regain those two senses. He’s quite sensitive to touch.” Rama gingerly picks up his son from the tree skirt and cradles him for a moment. He then holds out the noisy kit out to Sate. The kit looks like he weighs at least eight pounds.

“How old is he?”

“A week and seven hours.”

“But he’s so big! He should be smaller than a teacup!”

“That’s because he started off as a human baby and will be once again.” Rama says before putting Armitage into his arms. Sate feels the soft bristles of Armitage’s fluff and the smooth skin beneath. The kit makes high-pitched noises and cuddles against his chest.

“He loves you, Sate, very much.”

*

Sate finds himself on a rocking chair with a sleeping Armitage. The kit is wrapped up in white blanket with black stars. He makes low snores through his long nose. Blearily, Sate wants to coo at him, but he knows better than wake a sleeping babe.

 _“Ooo!”_ The kit whimpers suddenly, and Sate rocks him back and forth.

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s just a nightmare. I think.”

“No, he gets hungry after a nap.” Rama’s voice flits behind him. He sees Rama’s long fingers card the top of Armitage’s head. The kit purrs like a kitten.

“Sometimes, he’s a cat. Sometimes, he’s a snake. I’m so grateful that’s all he inherited from father.”

“But he has red h—fur.”

“He gets that from Bren, along with his sweetness.” Rama insists gently. He comes around and takes the kit out of his arms. He moves to the gray couch with its thousands of lifeless buttons and sits down. Sate politely averts his eyes as Rama feeds the hungry kit.

“You’re not worried about his bite?”

“Kits don’t get their teeth until they’re three-weeks-old.”

“I guess he’ll be bottle-fed soon.” Sate looks up when he hears the _pop_.

“I have endured pain far greater than that.” Rama expresses nonchalantly, but he looks down at Armitage with a hint of shame. Sate examines his face and finds jagged, circular scars on the sides of his temples. Like electrodes were hooked up to him and—

_No! Palpatine would never do that to his son! We’ve spent a year looking for him. He’s still looking for him, even with the war going on. Maybe he was kidnapped by a mad scientist and experimented on. Maybe he was sold as a slave—_

“Sate, you don’t want to know.” Rama warns darkly and then lightens with a smile. “Just like I don’t want to know how Kinman died.”

“You truly don’t!” Sate’s pallid cheeks flare to a mortified red.

“He’s probably flirting with Shiraya and Chaos right now.”

“Exactly.”

*

Armitage sniffs the asphalt path until he finds the trail that leads him to a thorny bush. Sate hovers over the kit, while Rama watches from the asphalt as his son relieves himself. The kit shambles away from the thorns and then settles on rubbing his face on a dandelion patch.

“What season is this?”

“It’s late spring here.”

“I see that now.” The sarcasm drips from Sate’s mouth.

“When we arrived, it was midsummer and quite cold. Winter was fairly mild.”

“Did you spend your entire pregnancy here?”

“The first two months were on Arkanis. Those months were filled with planning, splitting assets, and packing.”

“Splitting assets?”

“From Bren’s divorce.”

“ _What!_ ”

“He and Maratelle got married purely for convenience; he needed someone to handle all the societal duties, while she wanted someone with money and wouldn’t pester her for heirs.” Rama smirks smugly. “Eventually, we found each other and fell in love. A few months later, I got pregnant. We had a very long talk about the future, and then Bren divorced Maratelle.”

“…..At least, he did the right thing.”

“At the cost of half his Imperial fortune and the manor.”

“This was the only place you could go to then.” Sate looks back to the kit and sees the little furball digging a tiny hole. 

“I suppose so.”

“You and your family don’t have to settle for this lonely world. I can take you anywhere. Even to Naboo. Wouldn’t you rather raise Armitage on Naboo? Let him be in a place where the sun shines and the wine flows.” _And you both can be treated like the Imperial princes you are!_

“Sate, what a lovely dream you have.”

*

Sate finds himself on his back, staring up at a new dawn. The reds, yellows, and oranges are surrounded by four walls of sea-glass. The ground is a manufactured carpet perfectly suitable for a kit to play on, or rather, roll around on like a hyperactive puppy.

Warmth spreads throughout his body. He’s certain it started from his belly full of barrat stew and freshly baked oro bread. The pastel pink comforter above him feels lighter than a cloud. The bedroll beneath his body is really a pelt of an animal not of this galaxy. Its indigo fur feels soft as shimmersilk.

“Are you comfortable?” Rama asks while on his belly. He watches with a bemused expression at Armitage’s boundless energy.

“I am. I’m also amazed you were able to find such a big bedroll.”

“This is the Knives’ family-size.” Brendol answers.

“The Knives?”

“You’ll never have to play emissary for them.” For an instance, he sees Senator Palpatine’s twisted smile after a present failure that’s later revealed as a long-term victory.

_He won’t let me learn more than that. He doesn’t want me to know where they’ll be going after I restore his son’s humanity. Perhaps, Palpatine has heard of them from Thrawn before his disappearance. The Empire needs that Chiss now more than ever!_

“The Great Dragon once spent a century with a pack of purrgil. Was he lonely? Was she bored? Or did they just to learn the secret of hyperspace travel?”

“Who?”

“The Lost Tribe of Sith sought creation over destruction on their new homeworld. They made dragons through their interesting brand of Sith alchemy. The Great Dragon wasn’t the first dragon born, but he, she, they are the last of their kind.”

Armitage halts his playing and returns to his designated spot between Sate and Rama. He lies down, and then his father covers him with the blanket from earlier. He then curls up under the blanket and snores lightly. 

“And the Lost Tribe of Sith?”

“……They are with the dragons.”

*

Days pass until it’s the morning of Life Day. Rama and Brendol are long-gone from the bedroll; most likely, sparring together or being intimate. Sate finds it both flattering and worrying that they trust their kit alone with him after a day. And a bit guilty since he spends the non-supervised time trying to find a comlink to hail the Emperor. So far, these mornings have yielded nothing.

“Guwah!” A baby’s cry brings him out of his sobering thoughts. He pulls back Armitage’s blanket and gasps.

“You’re human! Kind of.” Gone is the long nose, the red fur, and soft paws; all are replaced by normal human features. However, the fox ears are still atop Armitage’s head and his tail is still very much attached to him. Sate scoops him up, and Armitage responds by using his fingers to grasp the sharp hook of his nose.

“Yes, you have fingers now, sweetie!” Sate coos, and Armitage lets out a peal of delightfully human laughter.

*

The Emperor is dead, and, soon, his Empire will join him. Though a few high-ranking Imperials have decided to take their chances in the Unknown Regions, Sate did not join them. There’s no point in being part of the dregs if Palpatine is not there to lead them. He holds out a faint hope that Palpatine stashed a clone on Byss.

Instead, he hears a child’s laughter echoing through the Emperor’s Citadel. He runs until he reaches the throne room and finds the child sitting on the Emperor’s throne.

“Hello, grandfather, father told me you would arrive today.” The child grins with his teeth, showing off his prominent canines. His red hair blends naturally with the fur of his fox ears. He wags his poufy tail with all the hyperactive joy in the universe.

“Armitage…….ARMITAGE!!” Sate sprints and hugs the fox-child with all the joy that he has left in his soul.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Comments- Here are the links: 
> 
> Here’s an image of a vixus first shown during the Umbara Arc of CW: [Link](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/theclonewiki/images/e/ed/Vixus-SWE.png/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20120709015742)
> 
> Rama’s maid outfit is inspired by this, but there’s more lace because Rama really loves lace: [Link](https://www.periodsintime.com/images/products/images-products-VintageVictorianGothicDressWithLongSleeves-LARGER.jpg)
> 
> Here is an image of Armitage as a baby fox; this is the chunkiest he’ll ever be: [Link](https://i.redd.it/ifwt6l4yfi931.jpg)
> 
> Here is an image of Holo from Spice & Wolf. I imagine Armitage will have very similar looking ears and fluffy tail like Holo but just foxy when he grows up: [Link](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/spiceandwolf/images/5/51/Holo_Infobox.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20120213085409)
> 
> Poor Sate, the Palpatines just keep breaking his heart in ways he didn’t think were possible anymore. This is why he dies like ten years after Sheev. On a random, lighter note, one of my headcanons for Sly Moore is that she and Mas Amedda were BFFs until her death. They loved talking shit about Kinman and Sate over a glass of wine. 
> 
> I know Life Day is pretty much Christmas in Star Wars and I probably should’ve released this on Christmas, but, hey, there’s such a thing as Christmas in July. Oh, and all of my fox facts came from a quick google search, so I probably got most of my “facts” on foxes completely wrong. Also, given Armitage’s unique “hybrid” biology, he may have litters. And if he hooks up with Ben/Kylo/Whatever-the-Hells-else-he’s-calling-himself-in-this-AU, a set of twins or triplets are pretty much guarantee.


End file.
